Month: April 2016

What’s that? You’ve never heard of me? What on earth does Frank talk about on this blog then?

Can you believe that my owner took off on holidays last week, and left me behind at Frank’s house? Sigh…

Frank’s been busy patting me, taking me for walks and feeding me scraps this week. I’m a bit upset that he doesn’t let me sleep inside at night like I do at home. Not nearly enough food here for my liking, either.

I’m a bit sick of watching Frank write on this blog, when he could be entertaining me instead. So, I thought I would lend him a hand today and make myself known. He doesn’t really deserve any favours from me, though…

Can you believe that I had to watch Frank tweeting about I Wish People Knew That Diabetes for the whole day last Wednesday? I don’t know what those humans are complaining about…I Wish People Knew That Diabetes means us dogs have it tough!

I Wish People Knew That Diabetes means I have to watch Frank eat Tim Tams when he’s low. Well, I think he just says that to me so that I’ll leave him alone!

I Wish People Knew That Diabetes makes Frank upset sometimes, and he doesn’t want to play with me.

I Wish People Knew That Diabetes means Frank has to get his insulin out of the fridge, when he could be getting food for me instead.

I Wish People Knew That Diabetes makes Frank pick me up when he’s upset, and I can’t run around the house and see what everyone else is up to!

I Wish People Knew That Diabetes means that Frank can’t wolf down his dinner like I do. He has to count carbs and give insulin first! Watching his delicious dinner plate for so long is torture!

Oh, and can you believe this – Frank just reminded me that if I’m going to be talking about I Wish People Knew That Diabetes, I need link to the official website at iwishpeopleknewthatdiabetes.org. I thought I was taking charge of this blog today!

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I wrote this last night, hence the timing may not make any sense if you’re reading this morning.

My blood sugar was a perfect 4.8 when I woke up this morning.

Yet right now, I can taste the sickly residue of skittles that are stuck on my tongue after all of the hypos I’ve treated today.

I wonder where I went wrong today. I wonder where I keep going wrong.

I’m exhausted, just writing this, but I need to get today off my chest.

It was one of the first real winter mornings of the year. I woke up after a comfortable 8 hours sleep. Feeling the early morning chill, I began to prepare one of my favourite winter morning breakfasts – a hot bowl of porridge with half a cup of milk. The sweet smell of Espresso was brewing in the kitchen, as per usual.

36 grams of carbs for my breakfast, a carb ratio of 1 unit for every 6, and I dialled up 6 units on my insulin pen. For a moment, I considered opting for 5 or 5.5 units instead, seeing as I was close to the hypo range. Add to that the fact I would be at work and on my feet shortly, meaning greater insulin sensitivity. I don’t know why I dismissed that thought, but I did. I dismissed it, and went with the full 6 units of insulin instead.

By the time 8.30am rolled around, my blood sugar was 3.9. Three point fucking nine. Fuck diabetes, I thought to myself. Fuck diabetes, I told myself as I reached for the canisters of skittles in my locker and started shoving them into my mouth.

It was the stupidest mistake. I’ve made so many stupid mistakes like these recently that it’s not funny. I should know better. I do know better. Yet I just don’t seem to be thinking clearly. I feel like shooting myself in the foot.

I was in awe of the DOC members yesterday who took part in sharing a #dayofdiabetes on Twitter. I’m in awe of expectant people like Kelley and Kerri who are so diligent with their diabetes. I’m so happy for them, but at the same time I feel like I’m failing. I feel like I can’t even give myself the diligence that I deserve.

It was one of those days where I just had the words fuck diabetes on repeat. I ripped open a bag of Malteasers (which I did share, FYI), because I really couldn’t give a fuck for today. But at the same time, I think to myself, how much longer can I afford to keep saying this?

The yourSAY research findings issued last week revealed that many Australians felt burdened or tired of monitoring their blood glucose. I wrote more specifically about these findings here. Even though they didn’t necessarily represent my views alone, it was hard not to feel a little exposed when reading them. I expected so much from this research. By the time I reached the end of the report, I was left wondering what happens next.

I was curious to know if there were any discussions or solutions on the horizon to lessen the burden of glucose monitoring for Australians living with diabetes. I put that very question to both Abbott and Diabetes Australia, two of the major parties invested in both this research and in people with diabetes. Both kindly responded to my e-mails, which I will paraphrase below.

I think it’s fair to say that for both parties, research such as the yourSAY provides greater understanding of the needs and attitudes of people living with diabetes. I know that I encounter a great deal of diabetes unawareness myself, in day to day life. These organisations most likely employ some people who do not have diabetes themselves. Research would be crucial to both organisations in their work and what they hope to achieve.

Abbott’s objective in releasing the results was to initially highlight attitudes towards people’s glucose monitoring and current diabetes management. The yourSAY findings set the scene in the Australian market for glucose monitoring solutions to come. Obviously, Abbott are also launching the FreeStyle Libre in the Australian market soon, and I presume that these findings will be used to complement this launch.

Diabetes Australia uses the findings from research projects such as the yourSAY to build advocacy cases with all levels of Government, philanthropists, healthcare companies and other stakeholders. Diabetes Australia also advocates to the Federal Government about the need to increase access to new technology such as Continuous Glucose Monitoring, and to ensure that people who need these technologies can afford them.

I know that it’s still early days, and change does not happen overnight. I can’t say that I know what is involved in developing a new product or building an advocacy case, so it’s not fair for me to comment.

I would, however, like to see limits on the number of test strips subsidised through the NDSS removed. I would like to see diabetes technology encouraged by healthcare professionals, and made more accessible for those who wish to use it. I would like to see more support and resources for people in the public healthcare system – I know that I was weaned off of it once my diabetes management was deemed “satisfactory,” even though I could have benefitted from greater attention.

I’m happy this research is out there. I can only hope that it will create greater awareness, trigger discussions and conversations in the right circles, and create change going forward.

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Last week, I sat down and watched a full episode of My Kitchen Rules for the very first time. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s pretty easy to get hooked in.

Do I watch it because I’m inspired by the “home” cooking? Nope. Do I watch it because it shows genuine “reality?” Absolutely not. Rather, I love sitting in front of the telly and picking the show to pieces.

Every year, the show trots out the same cliched characters and stereotypes that have been done to death. The lovebirds, the villains, the couple with big egos, blah blah blah. Watching the contestants’ behaviour and dialogue is cringe-worthy. It comes across so forced and so unnatural. I watch the show and I think to myself, ‘who the hell talks like that!’

I love watching the manufactured drama unfold as the couples prepare meals for the competition in their homes.

I say manufactured, because it’s so obvious that it isn’t real. (And the gif, because I’ve been watching Downton Abbey all weekend). One night, the oven’s burning. The next night, one of the dinner guests is making nasty remarks about the food served up. Another night the team has a meltdown in the kitchen, magically pulls it together before the end of the episode and wins a perfect score. Oh, and did I mention that crying is a prerequisite to be on this show?

I really feel for those poor contestants who are forced to sit at the dinner table for what appears to be a good 10 or 12 hours. In an episode last week, the guests arrived for dinner at what looked like lunchtime, and by the time the final scores were issued, it was dark. I can only assume the crew take their time filming several takes and gathering lots of footage to ensure the most dramatic on-screen effect.

As I was sitting in the lounge room watching last week, I realised that diabetes would be the perfect character for the show. The producers would surely eat it up.

Imagine the back story. I could say that I’ve lived with diabetes for years, and that I was bullied because of it. I’m going on the show to prove that diabetes won’t hold me back. All reality contestants seem to have something to “prove” these days, right?

I could dramatically feign lows in the kitchen. I could stop to check my blood sugar, with the result dramatically revealed after a commercial break. I could have a meltdown over my diabetes right before the guests are about to arrive, and then miraculously pull it all back together in time to serve them dinner.

I could be the contestant with a big diabetes ego. I could criticise all of my competitor’s dishes for not being diabetes friendly. I could whinge about there being no nutritional information or carb counts on the menu. I could test my blood sugar at the dinner table and blame the food for causing my levels to spike.

While My Kitchen Rules is hardly about the actual cooking, there’s no shortage of people who continue to watch it here in Australia. At a time where we are facing issues around sugar consumption, unhealthy diets and obesity, it’s a shame that shows like these aren’t doing more to inspire people to cook simple meals at home.

We will be discussing online and offline diabetes peer support during tonight’s OzDOC chat. Join in Tonight from 8.30pm AEST by following #OzDOC on Twitter.

Mum has used the word “diabetic” a few times lately in reference to my insulin pump day and an upcoming trip, and it’s kind of been bugging me. Until yesterday, when I finally felt the urge to correct her.

“I’m not a diabetic,” I replied. “I’m a person with diabetes.”

“What’s the difference?” Mum asked.

“Diabetic is a label.” I paused, trying to summon more words.

“Come on, explain yourself.”

I was in the process of swallowing a mouthful of coffee. Feeling the pressure to answer, I choked. I jumped out of my chair and raced over to the lawn, where I could safely clear my throat and the excess coffee in my mouth.

“I don’t use the word ‘diabetic’ on my blog. I say person with diabetes. Diabetic is a label, whereas diabetes is a word that describes me. I wouldn’t call you ‘cancer’ or ‘brain tumour,’ would I?”

“The way language is used – both verbal and written – reflects and shapes our thoughts, beliefs and behaviours. Language has the power to persuade, change or reinforce beliefs, discourse and stereotypes – for better or for worse. Words do more than reflect people’s reality: they create reality.”

“Language needs to engage people with diabetes and support their daily self-care efforts. Importantly, language that de-motivates or induces fear, guilt or distress needs to be avoided and countered.”

“Optimal communication increases the motivation, health and well-being of people with diabetes; furthermore, that careless or negative language can be de-motivating, is often inaccurate, and can be harmful.”

What may seem silly to you, means a great deal to the person who is listening or reading.